


Amnesia: Justine

by SgtLeppard



Category: Amnesia: The Dark Descent
Genre: Canon Compliant, Flashbacks, Gen, this is basically the Justine DLC in story format
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 11:15:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7842736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SgtLeppard/pseuds/SgtLeppard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Justine's experience, written down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Aloïs

**Author's Note:**

> This could pretty much be considered a walkthrough for the Justine DLC

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They can all be saved. There is always a way.

_Good of you to come. This time it will be a trial of character._

_Bear in mind. Death is final - nothing will be saved._

_Come on, wake up. You need to get going._

\----------

The young woman blinked as she struggled to stand. She gasped as she looked around her, finding herself caged in with no memory. "Where... where am I?" she questioned aloud. "Who am I?" Full of fear, she ran to the door, shaking it. "Help! Anyone! I'm trapped!" She shouted and cried for someone to let her out, but it was no use. There was no one around to hear her.

Turning, she noticed the rope that was attached to the lock. Following the line, she could see a lantern holding the rope to the ceiling. If only she could reach it... But wait, there was more rope. She followed the remainder of the rope and saw the end attached to the crank of a phonograph. Curious, she turned the crank and the recording began to play.

 _"_ Bienvenue _,"_ the woman in the recording spoke, an elegant grace in her voice. _"You are now listening to the sound of my disembodied voice. It will serve you no purpose to look for me, for this is a voice from the past."_ Who was this woman?

_"I bid you welcome to my Cabinet of Perturbation."_

"Perturbation...?"

 _"It is my study of the human psyche,"_ the recording answered. _"Specifically yours."_

"Mine?" she whispered.

_"A set of recordings have been prepared to chaperone you through the chambers ahead. There are a few parts to this study and it is up to you -- not only to pass, but to figure out what elements are important."_

"Elements?" she questioned once more. "What elements?"

 _"Please go on,"_ the recording continued, _"move into the next chamber. Just remember, they can all be saved. There is always a way."_

The recording ended there. They can all be saved? What was that supposed to mean?

As she turned around, something had come in contact with her forehead. "Ow!" Rubbing her forehead, she noticed the lantern had lowered. Grabbing it, she attempted to light it, but there was no oil. Why would this woman leave her a lantern without any oil? What was the point of having it? Would she have to find some herself or--

The sound of the lock breaking brought her back to reality. The rope was no longer attached to the door. With a gentle push, the door opened. She carefully ventured forward, squinting to see through the darkness of the corridors. As she turned a corner, she could hear a raspy growl and rattling chains. Flattening herself against the wall, she carefully peeked around, seeing nothing immediately until she noticed the barred window. Chancing a look, she squatted down next to the window, only to back away and gasp. What on God's green earth was that monstrosity!? On second thought, she really didn't want to know.

The woman continued on, now alert of the slightest sounds she made. Soon she hit a dead end as the corridors ahead were blocked with rock piles. A broken off ladder lay among the rubble. Sighing, she turned back around and went the other way, hoping there wasn't another dead end.

Thankfully, there was a door. Walking in, she saw cells all around the room. Was she in a prison? Of all places for that woman in the recording to conduct a psychological test, a prison was the last place she expected it to be. At this point, she figured it best to look around for some oil for her lantern, and pulled one of the cell doors open. Almost immediately, the raspy growl returned. That monster was nearby. She quickly hid, not wanting it to see her.

A voice began to speak. "Is that you, my love?" Wait, what? She peered around to see the hideous thing - no, it was a man! This monster was a human person! Whatever happened to the poor man to make him this way? He was bald, emaciated, and his eyes were gouged out. Who was he? Could she help him somehow?

Soon, he left the room, crying out for his lost lover, whoever she was. Breathing a sigh of relief, she noticed a note lying on the floor. She picked it up and read. The note was written by a man named Lucien Racine and mentioned a woman named Justine Florbelle who was involved with the writer's son, Aloïs. He seemed rather angry at the woman from what she could tell. Then she couldn't help but giggle when she read that Monsieur Lucien wanted her locked up. All because his son was in love with her? That was a stupid reason to have a woman arrested. If anyone was an hysteric, it was obviously Monsieur Lucien.

Discarding the note, she quietly left the cell, then shut the main door in case the man came back to mistake her as his lover. She just wanted to escape from this place, wherever it was.

Looking up, she saw a small loft above the cell. She jumped up to grab the edge, but her fingers were just out of reach. "Ah." She pulled some nearby barrels over and stacked them. One alone would not be enough to reach the loft, and the two stacked were too high for her to climb. Eyeing some boxes on the other side of the room, she ran to get them.

"Whoever you are, if you could help me, I would be much obliged." The voice startled her. Looking into the cell where the voice came from, she saw a blindfolded man tied to a table. The door to the man's cell was locked with a padlock. _Maybe there's a key around here?_ There was a lever next to the door, and she pulled it. She gasped as the man let out a scream. "Please, you don't have to do this!" Do what? What was she doing? She looked back in the cell and saw the large spike that looked as if it were going to impale the man. The lever apparently controlled the spike.

It suddenly clicked that this is what the woman in the phonograph was talking about. "They can all be saved. There is always a way." She was going to have to save this man from being killed. _Alright,_ she thought, _I need to find the key to this lock._

Grabbing the boxes she needed, and now with a more important goal than lantern oil, she stacked them with the barrels until they were high enough to reach and would give her a way up. She shoved some more boxes away, looking for anything that looked like a key, but all she found was a wax cylinder that looked like it belonged to the workings of a phonograph. Seeing as recordings were going to guide her through this entire experience, it seemed she would need it later. Pocketing the cylinder, she climbed back down the stack of barrels and boxes and decided to search the other cells.

She opened the door to one of the cells, noticing a table with a blood written 'Forgive me' message on it and a note.

_Justine, my love, I know I am not as talented as Malo or as strong as Basile, but I am certain my love is truer. Do not my scars tell you so? I will continue to cut myself as long as it pleases you. I would even kill Basile if you wish. I know you say you like it, but he is hurting you. I will trick him to consume the Bromide. Poor Justine. I will help, just ask me to help._

_\- Aloïs_

Wait, didn't that man earlier claim to be looking for his lover? Was that man Aloïs? It certainly made sense with how he spoke and what the note said. That also meant Justine was his lover. Just who was she? And who were Malo and Basile?

The woman continued searching the other cells for a possible key, but came up empty handed except for a bottle of laudanum. She ran her hand through her dark curls, racking her brain for some answer. There had to be a way to get the man out of his cell and escape from this prison. Looking up, she saw a hatch in the ceiling. _Yes, that's it!_ She pulled the boxes and barrels that were stacked up by the loft over to the hatch. However, the stack was only high enough to just open it. No matter how high she jumped, she could not reach.

Then she caught sight of a ladder, which seemed to be mechanically controlled in order to lower it. But the only lever in the room controlled the spike. _I wonder..._ Climbing down, she gripped the lever and, watching the ladder in the hatch, pulled it again. Sure enough, the ladder descended down a bit, but the spike drew closer to the bound man, leaving him whimpering and fearing his death.

 _Of course,_ she thought, _The lever must control the both of them. In order to bring the ladder down, I'd have to kill the man. But I have to save him!_ Killing him would provide her an ample escape, but she couldn't bear to take his life over a ladder. There had to be another way.

 _Wait,_ she thought, _there was a ladder back there._ While it might have been broken, it would certainly help in getting her up that hatch without killing the poor soul. Wary of every turn and sound, she quickly made her way back to the blocked corridors where the broken ladder lay. It didn't seem very heavy, it would be no problem to lift. She brought it back to the cells, climbed back up the stack, and set it against the edge of the opening. _I might be able to come back with a key to break him free._ With that thought, she climbed up the broken ladder and into the narrow crawl space that was her exit.

She crawled on her hands and knees through the passageway, squinting once more to see where she was going. "I really need oil," she muttered to herself. Suddenly, the raspy growling had reappeared. Was Aloïs chasing after her!? She wasn't going to stick around to find out. She quickened her pace, hoping that she wouldn't get lost, until finally she reached another open hatch at the end of a downward slope. Gripping the edge, she carefully jumped down.

The sight of another phonograph caught her attention. She turned the crank, but it wouldn't work. Why wouldn't... That's right, she picked up a wax cylinder earlier! Maybe it belonged to this phonograph? She placed the cylinder in the phonograph and turned the crank once more, which then began to play.

The woman from before was laughing and was speaking to someone else. _"Speak into the phonograph, Basile,_ mon chéri _."_ Basile, of course! He must've been another of Justine's suitors. Wait, was this woman Justine?

The man, Basile, groaned, speaking groggily, _"What did you put into the wine?"_

Justine answered with a giggle, _"Absinthe, silly Basile. Strong men like you don't drink wine. Wine is for helpless women like myself."_

Okay, apparently this Justine lady is a little insane, the woman concluded, internally remarking on her tone.

 _"My head,"_ Basile groaned again, clearly disoriented. _"What is this thing?"_ What thing would that be? _"Get me out. I'm not up for your games."_ He definitely sounded irritated.

 _"No,"_ Justine spoke, laughing childlike, _"you have to say it first. How beautiful am I?"_

Basile grumbled, _"Plenty, now let me out of this thing."_

Justine became furious. _"No, that's not what you say!"_

Sighing, Basile said, _"Your beauty is blinding."_ Immediately after the last word left his lips, he began to scream. _"My eyes! What have you done to my eyes!? Justine, this isn't funny! You've blinded me!"_

 _"Ha ha, can't catch me now,"_ she taunted him.

_"I'll kill you, you whore!"_

As the recording ended, the woman began to panic. This Justine person was the one apparently conducting this odd and dangerous obstacle course, and now she's seen her sociopathic nature. Maybe Monsieur Lucien was onto something in requesting that she be locked up.

Fearing what was to come, she moved on down the corridor, noticing a blood trail on the floor. Was someone hurt? Opening the door, she found no one inside. Just a bunch of drawings and descriptions posted on the wall and another phonograph. She gingerly turned the crank and Justine's voice spoke once again, addressing the young woman.

 _"Congratulations for coming this far. I am so excited for you."_ Excited? How crazy was she? _"I do hope you managed to save Monsieur Fournier."_ So that was the man's name? _"He was a friend and colleague of my papa, you know."_

"I wonder what Monsieur Florbelle would have to say about your behaviour," she grumbled at the recording.

 _"Friendly fellow,"_ Justine continued, _"a real_ bon garçon, _but frail of mind. He puts up an impressive front, but it is all an act, I assure. Please go on, we are just getting started."_

Just getting started? This could only end badly, she was sure of it.

She noticed a piece of paper sitting on an end table on the other side of the room. Picking it up, she saw it was a newspaper article, dated 19 March, 1858. Upon reading, the article answered the question of who Malo was, a talented violinist. The man had showed up to a performance drunk -- so unprofessional of him -- and couldn't play properly. Justine was in attendance and was amused by the event.

It seemed these three men, Aloïs, Basile, and Malo, were all Justine's lovers. And judging by the illustrations on the wall, Aloïs' current physical state seemed to be her doing. She feared what could potentially happen to her at the hands of this crazy woman.


	2. Basile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On this next piece, you should be looking for some divine inspiration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Portal references, anyone?

The woman walked into the Library, greeted by another of Justine's phonographs. Sighing, she turned the crank.

_"On this next piece,"_ Justine instructed, _"you should be looking for some divine inspiration."_

"Divine...?"

_"Time to delve into your spiritual side. What do you see?"_ the recording asked. _"Is the man begging for mercy, or is he being blessed? Perhaps both! Father used to say, there were no right answers. Have the light guide you."_

Yeah, that was the least helpful recording yet. Divine? Spiritual? What was she supposed to do, pray? Confess her sins? She didn't even remember her own name, never mind her sins. Nevertheless, she would have to search around for clues as to what she was talking about. And some damned oil! It is dark!

She ventured into one room, finding nothing but a picture slide. What was this slide for? While she didn't know what it was for, it was better to hold onto it than discard it.

The next room was virtually the same, but provided the clue she needed about the picture slides. The note, apparently written by Monsieur Florbelle, mentioned a Light Box and Justine picking one of four slides to describe her overall mood during the entire day. Then the note mentioned a Puzzle Lock that Justine apparently did not understand how it worked, saying she always chose slides with characters facing the same way. She still didn't know exactly how these slides played into this part of the test, but she concluded that everything, however arbitrary it seemed, was important in some way or another.

As she turned to leave the room, an envelope on the shelf caught her attention. Opening it, she noted the date, which was roughly twenty years ago, addressed to Monsieur Florbelle by a professor named Herbert. He must've been a friend of his to comment on Justine's behaviour when she was a child. It seems Justine has literally always been on the wild side. The note then digresses as Herbert asked about something concerning an expedition to Algeria. Okay, whatever.

The next room contained multiple bookshelves, but she managed to find the next slide rather quickly. Then came the final room, containing portraits of the Florbelle family, she assumed. Yes, she must've been in the Florbelle estate. No wonder there were so many mentions of Justine, along with the recordings. This is her house! She collected the final slide, then picked up a stack of papers she noticed on another table, labeled 'Soul Journal Entries'. Each entry was written by Justine at various ages when she was a child.

The first entry spoke of playing with a childhood friend named Clarice. _Today I was the one with open arms._

The second mentioned the Light Box again, saying she liked the _'man standing to the right',_ saying that he _'sees things he likes'._ Strange. _Today I was the right one._

The third talked about her picking the wrong slide, saying that she was to pick the man with the sword, but she picked the man on the right, saying _'I never pick the one with the sword.'_ And this was important how? _Today I was the one kneeling._

The final entry, upon reading it, disgusted the young woman. While the writing was ambiguous, it was apparent her father had done something horrible to her for her to write what she did. _Today I was the one with the sword._

Whatever all of this meant, this had to--

"Who are you? Who's there?" a deep voice spoke as she ventured towards the wall. Someone was trapped in there! She pulled the lever on the wall, hoping it would open something and let the man out, but he cried out, "Have mercy!" She realised too late that there were two slots that had to have the correct slides placed in them to save him.

Then it clicked. It was all one big puzzle, and this machine must be the Puzzle Lock. She was glad she held onto the slides now, since she had to determine which slides would free the poor man from his prison. The answer must be found in the last room. Hopefully in there she would solve this complex puzzle.

Upon walking into the last room, she heard something bang against a boarded up door. Whatever was behind there was definitely not friendly. She then decided to search the bookshelves for any additional clues that would help her, but only found a shipment slip for the Light Box and Puzzle Lock. Shipped overseas from Boston? Must be state of the art. Walking up to the Light Box, she lit the candle inside, then placed the slides in one at a time to determine what they were. The slides featured a man with open arms, a man with a sword, a man kneeling, and a man facing to the right.

Returning to the room, she sat down with the journal entries, trying to piece together the answer needed to open the Puzzle Lock and free the man inside.

After several moments of thinking, she finally figured it out. Justine always chose slides with men facing the same direction, she liked the man standing to the right, and she never picked the man with the sword. All of this meant that the two correct slides to open the Puzzle Lock were the last two slides, which had the man facing to the right and the kneeling man. She rushed over to the device, largely not hearing the man's words, and placed the slides into the slots, then pulled the lever.

The man's response told her she was right. "Look out for Justine, that demon. She may still be close." The woman jumped for joy, knowing that she definitively saved him.

A rumbling sound in the other room startled her. What was that noise? Walking into the opposite room, she saw that the back bookshelf had moved, revealing a hidden passageway. Yes! She dashed down the stairs and eagerly turned the crank on the next phonograph that awaited her.

_"I wonder,"_ Justine spoke, _"is Father David with his God now? Maybe you helped him there."_

"I saved the man from your devilish device, _vous chienne_!" she spat triumphantly at the recording. She saved a priest! That was definitely something to jump for joy about.

_"Don't you worry,"_ the recording continued, _"I'm sure he didn't have a family."_ She spoke as if the woman had chosen to kill him. _"He probably wasn't even all that well-liked. With the current political climate, I'm surprised someone hadn't killed him already."_

Was this woman serious? Did she really hate the Father so much to speak so badly of him?

_"We can't all be saved. Some don't even want to be saved. Yes,"_ she mused, _"that is a comforting thought. Saves us from trying."_

"Yes," the woman mused back as the recording ended, "you are quite an insane woman, Mademoiselle." Rolling her eyes, she continued down the stairs and entered a sort of food storage room. Some torches were lit, but they didn't illuminate much of the room. Soon they were blown out, and her fear level began to rise drastically.

Terror was soon struck in her as she once again heard the raspy growl. Aloïs was down here!? She quickly hid among some boxes, panting as footsteps began to come closer, marked by the chains on his feet.

"I will find you," he spoke. "I will kill you, you cunt." Wait, that voice was different from Aloïs'. It sounded more like Basile. It made sense. She needed to get away, and fast.

As soon as he passed by her, she began to run, only to realise she may have made a mistake in choosing to run, for Basile heard her footsteps and was giving chase. "I have you now!" he shouted. "I'll rip your head off!" Oh, how desperately she wanted to cry out that she was not Justine. She couldn't have been!

She ran as fast as her legs could carry her until she reached the door to the dungeon, slamming it shut in Basile's face, causing him to roar, "This isn't over yet!"


	3. Malo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The police are here. Maybe they can help you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♪Who hates water levels? I do! I do!♪
> 
> Also this part is pretty short

Leaning against the door, she slid to the floor and didn't move, catching her breath. Was Justine using her as a scapegoat to satisfy the twisted men?

Getting up, she trudged towards the phonograph, once more turning the crank.

_"I'm sure you have figured out how it all works by now."_ She had a pretty good idea, if anything. _"Are you enjoying my quips? I think they are quite clever."_

"Certainly not!" she huffed.

_"Not that I was ever much of a conversationalist,"_ Justine remarked. _"Poetry has always been my forte."_

"It certainly shows," she muttered under her breath.

_"But I digress,"_ Justine continued. The woman could read a smile in her voice. _"You should press on. It will all be over soon."_ She certainly hoped so. _"Also,"_ Justine added, _"the police are here. Maybe they can help you."_

The police!? Eagerly, she pushed the door open, hoping to see officers of the law, but only saw a door and a bunch of water. No wonder that wretched woman had a prison in the upper levels. The Dungeon was flooded!

She carefully stepped in, the bottom of her skirt instantly becoming waterlogged. Venturing in, she saw and heard machinery running. It seems, with the pattern of saving people, she would need to tamper with it to save whoever she needed to save in this part of the test. Seeing a door, she waded along, moving as quickly as she could in the water to save time. Busted pipes steamed above her as she reached another storage room with an adjoining room behind it. Deciding to be thorough, she checked everywhere in the two storage rooms, only to find a lever and an unopened letter.

Once again, the letter was addressed to Monsieur Florbelle, from an Englishman named Daniel, who claimed to be a friend and colleague of Herbert. Whoever this Daniel fellow was, she could read extreme worry into his writing over some orb he found while in Algeria and having lost contact with Herbert. She considered possibly writing back to the man once she escaped, but seeing the letter was dated 1839, it would be useless.

Wading back to the main area, she noticed a portcullis door and what do you know? There was a missing lever to raise it. _Too simple._ She replaced the lever, then raised it up. As soon as she had, another raspy growl resonated in the flooded room, along with a rather creepy laugh. No need to guess who this man had to be. Malo.

She quickly entered the room, then pulled the lever on the other side to close it, hoping it would hold the former musician back. It was clear she would need to be quick in this part if she was to save the man she had yet to encounter.

The water wasn't shallow enough to run very fast, but at least she could run. The woman went down another flooded corridor, only to reach a dead end, a cogwheel sitting on the table. With a quick glance around to make sure she missed nothing, she grabbed the cogwheel and bolted as fast as she could in the water, Malo's pounding on the door filling her with adrenaline to get moving. Peering into the room she was running to, she could see machinery. _This cogwheel must belong there!_ And right she was as she placed the cogwheel on the empty spoke.

As she ran to another portcullis door, the pounding intensified, and she feared Malo would actually break the door down and get her. Soon the door caved and Malo came rushing to her, laughing maniacally. Gasping in terror, she raised the lever just enough for her to squeeze under, then quickly shut it again.

"Hide and seek, hide and seek," Malo mused in a singsong voice behind the door, then began to pound at it.

The woman, panting in fear, quickly noticed the man she had to save, Justine's words coming to mind about the police. He must be a police officer! He was blindfolded and chained to the wall, the door to his cell completely raised. She needed to close it and fast! Running over, she turned the wheel controlling his cell door as quickly as she could, closing it and leaving him completely safe from the deranged man who pounded furiously at the door. Another door at the opposite side of the room served as her exit and she rushed to it, turning the wheel, but it would only open a little bit.

The door behind her suddenly caved. "I see you."

Gasping, she crouched under the door, slipping through and quickly pulling the lever on the other side, shutting it before Malo could get through.

"Come out," Malo said, "you'll like what I have planned." He then proceeded to pound at the door.

Not wanting to risk a single moment, she climbed up the stairs and bolted as fast as her legs could carry her, jumping over boxes. Malo had busted through again and gave chase. "Justine, let me taste you!"

_I'd rather you not!_ she thought. Mercifully, the door to the Crypt was just ahead. She grabbed her lantern, accepting that she was not going to be given any oil for it, and chucked it at Malo's head, momentarily stunning him. Seizing the opportunity, she rushed in and slammed the door behind her. She was glad these kinds of doors were really strong. Malo could not get her now.


	4. Justine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that you have seen what you truly are, you are able to go on and face eternity without fear. Without doubt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♪The end! THE END!♪ -coughing and hacking in the background-

Taking another breather, she leaned against the door again. How many more scares was she going to be put through!? By now, she had seriously had enough.

After she caught her breath and let her hands stop shaking, she reached over to the phonograph and turned the crank.

 _"Inspector Marot,"_ Justine was addressing the police officer in the Dungeon, _"are you still with us?"_

"Yes!" the woman proudly boasted. After enduring the most terrifying experience of her life, or at least what she could remember, saving the man was quite a feat.

 _"I'm looking forward to see if you managed to save him or not,"_ Justine continued. _"I know very little about him, but surely he had a family, don't you think?"_ The sociopathic woman mused on as if Marot was dead. _"Poor, poor, fatherless children. But he falls on his own sword. His kind is not meant to come for people like me. Laws are made for cretins."_

What? "Laws are made to protect people, you crazy woman!"

Justine spoke on, _"The aristocracy doesn't need to know right from wrong. We are always right."_

"I beg to differ," she huffed, furious at how she let her social status corrupt her. Venturing on, she pushed the door open to reveal a graveyard of sorts. "Poor souls." Looking around, she saw two rooms at the end of the Crypt, one room having a large angel statue, the other a plain headstone. The young woman could only assume they were the graves of Justine's parents. She walked into Madame Florbelle's grave room, wondering if the statue was a reminder of how beautiful she was. She could almost hear a little girl and her father speaking.

 _"What was mother like?"_ the girl asked.

Her father replied, _"She was the most beautiful creature ever to grace the world."_

 _"I can't remember what she looked like,"_ the girl spoke solemnly, _"no matter how hard I try."_

_"Her beauty was blinding, Justine. We could never dare to chain such memory to our minds. It would be too much to bear."_

For a moment, the woman pitied Justine. She must've lost her mother when she was a child. She could only imagine how painful it must've been, growing up without her. " _Repose en paix,_ Madame Florbelle," she whispered, the thought of losing a parent tugging at her heartstrings. If she could remember her parents, she would definitely be saddened if she lost them.

After a few minutes, she went into Monsieur Florbelle's grave room, wondering how he must've met his end. Inspecting his headstone, she could barely make out the inscription.

_It all made sense, he thought, we all appreciate symmetry. Everyone is comforted by the causality of logic. It gives the impression of a grand plan and that we may be able to grasp the inner workings of this perfect universe._

_You see, his wife died while giving birth to his son. That is why he was able to forgive. His family was just giving in to the symmetry._

Looking down at the ground, she noticed a letter. Once more, it was an exchange between Monsieur Florbelle and Professor Herbert, though this time, it was Monsieur Florbelle writing, and it was unfinished. He apparently had read the letter the professor sent him as he wished him luck on his expedition, then digressed, feeling terrible about the psychological observations with Justine and expressing his urgency to mend their relationship.

Sighing, she moved on to the end of the Crypt, where another phonograph was found, and she turned the crank.

 _"Well done,"_ Justine congratulated her, _"You have triumphed -- conquered my cabinet."_ Does this mean no more scares? _"I wish I could tell you how you did, but alas, this is a recording. You will have to figure it out all by yourself. Did anyone survive?"_

"Of course."

_"The doctor?"_

"Yes."

_"The priest?"_

"Yes."

_"Or perhaps the policeman?"_

"Oh, definitely yes."

 _"Who was allowed to live? Why?"_ Wait, what? Allowed? She thought she had to. _"You should really reflect on these past events and consider what they meant to you, what you have learned about your true nature."_

Justine paused for a moment before continuing. _"Father never knew me. He thought he did, but then he was frightened and nothing was ever the same again. I can still see him, lying there on the floor. He looked so surprised."_ It was beginning to dawn on the woman that Justine had killed her own father.

She then began to speak in rhyme. _"The star-shaped soapstone stained by his blood, fell to the floor with a sonorous thud. Blame me not, for I was but a child, with careful ambition, I dared a smile... Rest in peace, papa."_

That's when it clicked. 'What elements are important.' Was her own escape more important, or the precious lives of those Justine had imprisoned? Now it all made sense. But no... She couldn't...

She opened the door to the long, dark corridor, beginning to weep for the first time as phrases written in red adorned the walls. How could this be? Why? Just why!? This can't be! Is she really?

She is Justine herself. She set this up to test her own psyche! All of the puzzles, critical thinking, major scares. It was all a set up! And she herself had done it all.

Justine was still crying from her realisation when she reached the last room at the end of the long, dark, and twisting corridors, and the final phonograph, strapped to a dead body on the ceiling, was triggered.

 _"And so it comes to an end,"_ her voice projected from the recording. She realised just how different her voice sounded to herself and in a recording. _"Now that you have seen what you truly are, you are able to go on and face eternity without fear. Without doubt."_ A rumbling sound then caught Justine's attention. The room seemed to be getting smaller.

The walls were closing in on her!

"No!" Justine screamed, throwing rocks and boxes at the gears in an attempt to jam them, but it was no use. The young aristocrat began to panic and shook at the door, but it was locked. No matter what she tried, the walls continued to close in and she soon passed out.

Several moments later, Justine awoke to see the walls pulling back and her memories returning to her. Her fearful whimpering slowly became triumphant chuckling. Oh, it was great. "This..." she remarked, "This was the best one yet. So elaborate. It's just... too much..."

The young woman was proud of herself as the motive of her self psyche test became crystal clear. She tested herself to see if she even still had compassion or humanity. Throughout the test and with her final realisation, she discovered that she did indeed.

"Enough of this," she said to herself. "Get up, Justine."

The door behind her began to pound as Doctor Fournier, Father David, and Inspector Marot thanked her.

"Well done, child!"

"God be praised. You have saved us, child. Open the door."

"Hey, you? We are almost free. Come on, get us out of here."

Had she not have gotten her memory back, Justine surely would've let them go. But no. She pulled the bar down in front of the door, latching it. _It's already locked, but you can never be too certain._

Looking around a final time, her attention was drawn to the dead body and the skylight. "Such light was never meant for me." Then she took note of the machinery that controlled the walls. "Such intricate machinery," Justine commented. "I can't for the life of me understand why he built this..."

Before leaving, Justine went to test the door, but stopped. "It's alright," she told herself. "No one will be coming through that door."

She then left the room. "I should really keep this door locked," she mused, closing and locking the door. "Don't want any of the guests coming in here." Turning around the corner, she went upstairs.

"Mademoiselle Justine?" a voice called out. "Are you down there? Is everything alright?

"Of course, Clarice," she answered, "I'm quite alright. Is everything ready for tonight?"

"Yes," Clarice called back. "The goose is ready any minute now, and the guests should be arriving within the hour."

Justine shut the door behind her and picked up a letter she had sitting on the desk. She folded it and placed it in an envelope. "Clarice," she called to her friend, "I know it's a busy day, but make sure to post this letter for me, okay?"

Clarice took the letter, replying, "Certainly, Mademoiselle Justine. Urgent, is it?"

"Not really," she shook her head. "It's already years late. I just thought they should know... I'm still alive."


End file.
